Servitude
by genuinely.cunning
Summary: “Just give the word, My Lord.” There are times where one must follow through with the orders they are given. There is no choice. But they must learn what side they're on before any order can be fulfilled. With the bringing of a new world one can only hope
1. We Control The Sea The Very Sea Himself

My first attempts at a PotC fanfic. A full length one. The whole shabang. Servitude takes up right after DMC and is a combination of my own mind and the things I've heard and read. Rumors, leaked scripts, and images. All with the addition of a character of my own creation, though I have many more.

**genres**: action, suspense, drama?, humor, romance Dx   
** pairings**: oc/norrington, lizzy/will, HINTED jack/lizzy  
**disclaimer**: i only own AMBRE. that's it. if potc was mine ... oh you don't want to know. curse you disney.

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**We Control The Sea;  
**_the very sea himself_

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**  
**

For the moment, Beckett was quite surprised despite the lack of showing it. Here he was, James Norrington. A once highly regarded man now no more then a has-been, but being the one returning with the Letters of Marque …

"If you intend to claim these, then you must have something to trade."

Watching as the ex-commodore strode over, there was only hope that the man had what he wanted - what he desired.

"Do you have the compass?"

The words having left the stoic's mans lips, the other only responded with a subtle shake of the head. Sudden doubt came to the man, and soon what would be a trace of annoyance would leave him. But, the chance was not given.

"Better."

A content smile swept over the once well defined features, and with the raising of his right hand, a satchel dangled. But in the same swift movement, it was dropped onto Beckett's desk, a sickening thud in it's wake.

The only facial change upon the Lord was that of his normally narrowed eyes, widening. Leaning forward in interest, it came as a surprise. Whatever was in that satchel … was pulsating. What flies lingered around it did not know the true treasure of which they yearned to taste.

"The heart of Davy Jones."

This was way more then expected. How James had come into the possession of the heart was not of question at the moment. Regaining the little composure in which he had lost, Beckett stood from his seat, picking up the letter as he did so.

"This--"

With the letters, he pointed down toward the beating heart.

"Is worth more than just a pardon, Admiral."

It came as a shock to the ex-commodore, but a pleasant shock. He'd get his life back, just as he had hoped to do with stealing the heart out of Jack's pathetic jar in the first place. The sudden promotion wasn't something to complain about, though he would have been just as pleased with the pardon.

But, this was Beckett he was dealing with. There would be some minor set backs - it would be expected coming from a man of his sort.

Moving out from behind his desk, Beckett's eyes locked on Mercer, who didn't stand all that far behind James.

"Mercer."

With a look proven to have its non-verbal effect, the elder man took to retrieving what had been requested. Nothing more than a couple of minutes before the long black box was set on the desk.

Giving the man a brief nod of acknowledgement, Mercer in turn received the same from the ex-commodore before stepping aside.

Looking down at the box displayed before him, James instantly recalled where he had seen it before. In the hands of Governor Swann, on the day of his promotion as Commodore. Bringing his gaze back up towards Beckett, he awaited the already anticipated order.

"Your sword."

Flourishing his hand towards the box, a pleased glint flickered in the mans eyes before he turned his back to James, taking the needed steps to get towards the window-doors.

Dropping his gaze once more, James reached out with his left hand, gliding it over the boxes surface. What memories it struck; memories that would be better off left in the back of his mind. Not lingering, he flipped the box open, and with both hands, lifted blade from its case.

The time it had been since last he held it …

Without hesitation, James took the blade by its hilt and brought the tip close towards the heart displayed on the desk.

"Just give the word, My Lord."

Looking out the now opened doors, out into the bay, Beckett grew a sinister grin before glancing back over his shoulder.

"That won't be necessary, Admiral. With that heart, we control the seas."

What silence had filled the office just moments before, was diminished with the horror stricken screams. Shouts, yells, and cries from the sailors that worked at the docks. But one name rang clear over those calls, one name that namely every sailor knew.

"Davy Jones!"

"The Flying Dutchman!"

Beckett wasn't phased in the least, nor was Mercer who stood just a few feet behind him.

Hands folded behind his back, once more Beckett turned sharply towards James.

The Admiral was struck with shock. What had proved to be a normal day in Port Royal, vanished. Out in the bay, making its way ever so slowly to dock, was a wicked ship; a ship with the jagged teeth of a shark at its head.

"Let me repeat, we control the sea; the very sea himself."

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and there you have it. the start to something that i hope will be at least decent. reviews are greatly appreciated. :3 


	2. Living For The Chase

Just getting caught up. :3 Since I have this posted elsewhere.

**genres**: action, suspense, drama?, humor, romance Dx   
** pairings**: oc/norrington, lizzy/will, HINTED jack/lizzy  
** disclaimer**: i only own AMBRE. that's it. if potc was mine ... oh you don't want to know. curse you disney.

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**Living For**  
_the chase_

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**1 day earlier ;; midnight**

Five straight hours.

For five straight hours violent sobs racked at her body. There had been no reason to why the tanned face was streaked with tears. It all just came in a rush, a rush of sudden loss. All in the same, the feeling left her with the thought that the world was no longer a better place.

"What's wrong with me."

The words were spoken barely above a whisper as she sat in her cell, a cell that looked to have been new. Well, newer compared to the others. The bars were certainly cleaner. Probably a mishap in a previous happening; someone finding a way out or some sort.

Finally managing to control the shaking and bringing the sobbing down to subtle tears rolling down her cheek occasionally, the young woman sat up from where she laid on the cell floor.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she ignored the snores that emitted from the cell beside hers. An elderly man he was. What he was in here for, she couldn't even come up with a possible explanation. No matter the reason, she felt sorry. She'd feel even more sorry if her mother was in the same situation as she was at the moment.

Together, she and her mom had bought a pass from Africa to here in Port Royal. But, the pass had only been for one. It was on her choice to allow her mother to keep it, go onto a ship alone for the time being. With the destination of Port Royal being set, it wouldn't be hard for her to stow away on another ship heading there as well.

Her mother would have to wait a while, of course, but now being caught, her mother would have to wait longer.

"I didn't even get the chance to look for her."

That wasn't the only thing that worried her. She didn't even know if her mother was alive. The woman had left in the midst of a minor illness, but the illness could have grown.

"W-what if that's this feeling? What if she-- No. No, she's still alive. She is."

Why would her mind even muster that sort of possibility? Still, that didn't mean it wasn't impossible.

Shutting her eyes tightly, she fell back down onto the stone floor, praying to the God's that her mother's death was not the cause of her sudden sorrow.

It just couldn't be.

---

The sudden rattling of the cell made her jolt up, eyes wide and heart pounding.

"Up. Lord Beckett would like to see you."

The menacing smile on the red coat made her blood boil. These fellows thought they were hot shots, shoving others around up until a higher came to put them in their place. Then they were just like a dog with it's tail between it's legs.

Getting to her feet and picking away what straw that clung to her clothing, she gave him a questioning look. Brow raised along with her chin tilted up, she finally shook her head.

"What if I don't want to see him?"

"Then it's straight to the noose for you."

"For stowing away?!"

"Don't make matters worse."

A bark-like laugh came from her as she heard the lieutenant sort through the keys. There was something worse the eminent death? Not likely. Ceasing her laughter once the click of the cell being unlocked echoed, a serious expression took it's place.

Next move, he'd put irons on her. That was actually something she wanted. Giving a smile of her own, she brought her hands together, holding them out in front of her. The confused look on the man's face was enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in anticipation.

"In a brighter mood? That's what I like to see. A pirate eager for the noose."

Pulling the shackles from his shoulder, he clamped on one, then the other.

"I'm no pirate," she sneered, bringing up her leg and kneeing the fellow where it hurt most.

As he toppled down, she made sure to snatch the keys from him before leaving him there. Taking the precious time to lock the red coat in, she dropped the keys into the pocket of her breeches before taking off down the other set of stairs.

Keeping an ear on her way down, she managed to catch the man's coughs before he crashed up against the cell door (she was assuming as such from the rattling noise - like the one she heard when he awoke her).

"She's escaped!"

His voice boomed out, making her actually stumbles down a few steps before she collected herself. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder, back the way she had come.

"The keys … where are--"

"She took them! Down the stairs! GET HER!"

Biting down on her lip, she didn't put into the equation that there would be another guard. With footsteps getting closer towards the stairs, she looked ahead and took off running.

The chase had begun.

---

Run. Run. Run.

That was exactly what she did. Run. She ran as though her life depended on it. Well, it did in a sense. Making her way onto the streets, she didn't care for the attention she was drawing to herself, shoving people out of the way and knocking more then a few over. The shackles didn't help in the matter either.

Nor did the yells …

"There she is!"

"Over there!"

"Down that alley!"

Taking a brief pause, she gasped for breath, an exasperated look on her face. Didn't people know how to keep their mouths shut? Mind their own business? Apparently not. She didn't have all the time in the world to stay where she was and rest.

"Just find somewhere to hide."

She reassured herself, jerking her head to the side to get her hair out of her face. With a deep breath, she took off again, down the alley. That, in itself, was a mistake. At the end, four red coats that had her at gun point.

"Not good."

Coming to a sudden stop, she turned sharply on her heel, hoping she could backtrack. That was a no too. There, at the other end was another four.

Now this was just made into a game of pickle. Looking back and forth, each set of four took steps in her direction. They had her.

"Come on miss, we have no intentions of hurting."

"Coming from men that want me hanged, not likely." She brought up her hands, and giving her lips a slight pucker, she leaned forward.

For some reason, this struck a spark in all of their minds. They had seen actions like these before.

"Shame on all of you, scaring a poor girl out of her mind. Telling her words of sending her to the noose. And even worse! Marking her as a pirate."

That, apparently, was all the fire she really had. After all, running wasn't exactly one of her strong points and she already knew there would be no way out of this one now that she was surrounded. Regrettably, she gave a sheepish grin before outstretching her arms, offering them her cuffed hands.

"To Beckett … right?"

"Exactly."

Next thing she knew, she was being roughly handled and taken away.

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:'D again. reviews are love. let me know what you'd like to see, your predictions, etc etc. i love it all. even critique me, please. That's what i'm really asking for. 


	3. Just Like Your Father

Already chapter three. :3 i'm on a role i guess, but not for long. xD it'll start slowing down and then i'll start getting nagged on. that's probably what i'm looking forward too. when there is a lack of updates, you'll know why when you read the last tid-bit I added at the end. :'B

it's a pity, but it's from my own idiotic choices.

**genres**: action, suspense, drama?, humor, romance Dx   
** pairings**: oc/norrington, lizzy/will, HINTED jack/lizzy  
** disclaimer**: i only own AMBRE. that's it. if potc was mine ... oh you don't want to know. curse you disney.

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**Just Like**  
_your father_

* * *

"And tell me exactly why you were found aboard one of my ships?" 

"I told you, I came looking for my mother. I didn't have any other intentions aside from that, but apparently there is more to it. You're clearly making it out to be that way. If you have a problem with me, say it. Don't hide your forked tongue behind your teeth."

With narrowed eyes gazing down at the dirt beneath his nails, Beckett took steps around the young girl that stood before him. As a precaution, her hands were now cuffed behind her back and shackles around her ankles, just so she wouldn't make a similar kneeing like before.

"Those are some bold words for a woman."

She could tell that the short stature man was trying his best not to reveal that she was pushing his buttons. This grew a smirk from her since this wasn't all she had. There was way more fire in her mouth.

"That's an awful five o'clock shadow for a man of your stature."

A more evident smirk played across her lips since his jaw was clenched. He was trying to keep his composure, but with one more slip up, he'd snap.

"Just like your father." Giving his own smirk, he watched as her cocky expression dwindled down to that of confusion.

"He was the same way, finding some possible insult having to do with my height. He too enjoyed getting a rise out of me. He deserved being branded and how I took pleasure in branding him myself." His words were spoken with confidence as he stood before her, watching as her jaw dropped in astonishment. Just how exactly did he figure out that she was, who she was?

Before she could react, his hand came up, cupping roughly at her chin. Tensing up, she winced having the man come close to her - face to face, mere centimeters between them. Turning her head away the best she could, she held back the urge to do something … stupid. But the want to spit in his face, it was overwhelming …

"You have Sparrow written all over you, my dear. Best not do something that'll give me reason to send you straight to the noose." The words were laced with venom as they were whispered to her. "My word, is law. I could do whatever I please, and get away with it."

With the sudden jerk of her head to look forward, more deadly words came her way.

"Open your eyes."

There was no hesitation as she did what she was told. Gulping, she wouldn't show the sudden fear that blanketed over her. With that thought, she fulfilled that urge of wanting to spit in his face.

As he recoiled, dropping his hand from her chin, she wrinkled her nose, furrowed her brow, and bared her teeth.

"I could care less if your word is law. All you have against me my fath--"

The sentence wasn't finished as an audible smack echoed through the room. Her head now looking away, a sudden rush of red came to her cheek. He … hit her. Eyes wide, body trembling, she slowly turned her head back to face him, being able to catch as he withdrew a handkerchief to clean his face.

"You've made me do something I regret, Ambre. It's not like a man, such as myself, to strike a woman. But, you provoked me. The fact that you're a Sparrow allows me to disregard the fact of you being a woman. You're just more trouble for the East India Trading Company."

"How dare--" She had disregarded his words considering he was no more then a sinister being who enjoyed getting pain out of others.

"You don't want another mark against you, so I suggest you keep quiet."

This made her bite her tongue.

"You might not be branded, nor have you partook in actions that might condemn you as a pirate - but Ambre - I can promise you that I can make you suffer. Even your mother."

"Don't you lay your hands on her!"

Threaten her mother, and you already signed yourself up on Ambre's hit list, but the outburst grew a pleased look from him.

"I'll see you again, Ambre. You can count on that, but next time, I won't be as kind." Waving a dismissing hand, the two Lieutenant's that had been in the room the entire time, stepped forward, grabbing Ambre from under her arms and dragged her out.

This time, there was no struggle.

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:3 mmm. there you have it. ambre be the daughter of jack sparrow. if it wasn't obvious already ... -shrugs-this part and the next are prewritten. from chapter 5 and so on, there might be delays on updates. i'm having some issues with school right now. i'm a sophomore but i already have ideas of dropping out. been ditching a lot lately, and the parents don't know. if this hits the fan, who even knows if i'll be online. wish me luck, eh? 

reviews and what not.

please and thank you.


	4. The Branding

I believe this would be the longest part thus far. Probably a favorite of mine, though I fail at describing at times. It's a damn right shame. D:

**genres**: action, suspense, drama?, humor, romance Dx   
** pairings**: oc/norrington, lizzy/will, HINTED jack/lizzy  
**disclaimer**: i only own AMBRE. that's it. if potc was mine ... oh you don't want to know. curse you disney.

* * *

**The Branding**

* * *

James was still in a state of shock, watching as Jones crew appeared out of the waters causing citizens to scream and retreat. But where was Jones?

"He's still on the Dutchman. Davy Jones cannot venture onto land lest it be a decade from the last time."

Apparently someone had done their studying.

"Then what are w-- you waiting for, My Lord?"

Beckett smiled towards Mercer before the man nodded and took his leave from the confinements of the office. "Clearly not a written invitation, Admiral. But there's one small thing that must be taken care of before we deal with Jones." Crossing the floor towards the lit fireplace, the sudden overcast allowed the shadows of the fire to play off of his face as he hunched forward, stirring the burning wood.

"If you don't mind me asking--"

"Oh, of course not. This small thing concerns you, James."

Giving a slight smile, his brow arched, James took the liberty of placing his blade back within the black box on the desk. Until he was properly dressed, more so cleaned for that matter, he'd bother with such possessions and reacquaint himself with another head-warming wig.

"Does it now?"

The questioning look Beckett gave him in return put James back in his place. He was no longer amongst pirates. He was back in the civilized world and as such, he was expected to act properly. Especially now. Though the title of Admiral was promised, one slip up and who knew where he would end up.

The man, seemingly to have brushed the remark aside, nodded.

"To allow us to know where your loyalty truly lies."

He didn't know what he'd have to perform, but James assured himself he'd do it. He needed the life he once had, back. But something of this sort was probably done since he was, after all, around Sparrow. How he hated the entire experience but the deal the was struck back in Tortuga with Mercer - it mattered more to him to even be bothered by the fact that he was swabbing the deck with his old wig. It mattered more then seeing Elizabeth again; she did have Turner after all. What did she need with him?

Hearing the hinges of the door open, both Beckett and James looked. Waltzing on in, Mercer stepped aside to allow two lieutenants escort the prisoner in.

Again, another shock to James.

The girl was young, probably right around the age of twenty, maybe a few months off and from what James could make of her, she looked sick. Poorly fed and beat. The bruises that lined her jaw, all along her neck, and to what bit of her collar bone was visible. What could have been taken for bright green eyes were clouded over and masked by the mess of raven black hair that fell over her shoulders and despite the beige bandana; in her face.

At that moment, the girl was limp - merely a rag doll in the arms of the lieutenants.

"Wh-what's this?"

How could they do such a thing, to woman no less? What wrong had she done to allow such a thing to occur?

"It appears we have ourselves another Sparrow."

James froze, caught in a state of mind that told him that was a lie. That it wasn't possible. The woman that was in the room with them could not be that of Sparrow's kin. Though the idea wasn't all that far-fetched …

"A Sparrow? Are you certain?"

Beckett had moved to stand in front of the three. Lowering his hand to cup under her chin, he drew her gaze up and used his free hand to clear away what hair lingered.

Taking a few steps closer and looking past Beckett, James studied the girls face. As he was doing so, her eyes met with his, an angered look boiling within their depths. There was definitely a part within her that screamed to be released; that screamed for her freedom. She didn't need to be locked up. The only thing that prevented her escape was Beckett and namely, her name.

But sure enough, James caught the subtle features on her that could be found on Jack.

Purposely, Beckett slipped his hand out from under her chin, causing her neck to go slack and fall back down to its previous position.

"Ambre Sparrow. Nineteen. Daughter of Jack Sparrow and Isadora Waltz. Isadora recently arrived in Port Royal purchasing a home suitable for your average family. Tragically, she passed away last night."

With that last sentence, what fight Ambre had left in her, kicked in.

"You bastard! I told you. I told you not to touch her!" Fighting against the lieutenants, Ambre did what she could to get closer to Beckett. In her eyes was a look that proved she was aiming to kill. "I TOLD YOU!" She screamed.

Catching the pleased grin on Beckett's face, James couldn't believe what he was seeing. A scene that he'd never think to ever witness in his entire life. To think that there was a known child of Jack Sparrow in front of him, being … tortured.

The lieutenants did what they could to keep her secure without applying the force they'd normally use against an average man. But that wasn't working. In fact, it didn't work as Ambre worked her way out of their grasp, quickly turning on them. Her hands still bound behind her back, Ambre rammed and shoved at the lieutenants with her elbows, shoulder, her entire body; whatever was needed to get them out of the way.

Retreating back to grab hold of his sword and once his back was turned, James caught a pained scream. Whipping back around, he managed to catch sight of the woman falling to the floor, instantly curling up into a fetal position.

Standing above her was Mercer, dagger drawn and blanketed in crimson.

No wonder Beckett had kept his calm the entire time. If need be, Mercer would take care of her. Being caught in a position where he didn't know what to say or do, James looked helplessly at Ambre would had now began to shake, her body going through violent tremors. Either the tremors were a result of the assumed stab or from the tears that escaped her eyes; he did not know. Gulping, he brought his gaze up to Beckett who had moved once more, back towards the fireplace where the brand was heating up.

In a quick, fluid motion, Mercer had brought Ambre back up to her feet, only for her to fall back on her knees. Where her shirt ended, leaving an inch gap that revealed her torso, James spotted where she had been stabbed; right at the hip and a healthy flow of crimson escaped the wound.

That needed to be tended too …

"What you're to do, Admiral, is simply brand the girl in front of you. That alone will prove to me there will be no mess ups from this point on. By branding Ambre here, you've sworn to put an end to piracy."

Seeing Beckett hold the iron rod out from the fire, that "P" glowing red, a knot came to James stomach and stayed there when the end of the rod was slipped back into the flames. This was what he had to do, to prove his loyalty?

In a matter of seconds he looked to see Mercer yank off the leather arm guard on Ambre's right forearm and in turn, cut her bounds. Pulling her back up to her feet from under her arm, she gave a cry, and before he knew it, she was bent over onto a table. Mercer did his duty of pinning her left arm behind her back, applying more force then what was needed. The girl wasn't going anywhere in the state that she was in.

Another cry came from Ambre and James could see the reason why. Her open wound was being shoved against the end of the table, making matters worse. Being forced to hold her right wrist out, Ambre merely laid her cheek against the table, fighting back tears. In all aspects, she was being degraded. She had done nothing to deserve any of this.

She as no pirate.

She wasn't like her father.

She was no Jack Sparrow.

"So, Admiral?" Beckett arched a brow, gestured towards the brand in the iron. "Will you, or will you not prove to us what side you're on?" Stepping aside, he folded his hands behind his back, and looked at Ambre. She had fully submitted from what he could tell, and there'd be nothing to worry about given a couple more days. She'd be hanged and out of their way and with high hopes, her father was already taken care of.

Biting his tongue, James made the necessary movements to place himself between the fire place and the table. Looking from the handle and to Ambre's wrist, James was at a loss. There was no way he could reason with Beckett - that would leave more question to where he stood in this entire ordeal.

"Place it down, hold, and I'll tell you when to pull away."

Mercer's words came to James as a surprise, but he nodded. Just as long as he didn't look at her, he could do this.

"One--"

"It's best not to count. Just when they least expect it."

This clearly wasn't the first time Mercer held someone down and instructed another of how to properly brand a pirate. That was an unsettling thought. How many times did something like this happen to Beckett? Making deals, offers - anything, just to get what he wanted.

If he didn't know any better, James could possibly regard Beckett as a pirate if he didn't have the powdered wig. Though it was a chance that if spoken aloud, those words would send himself to the noose.

Not giving it another thought, because if he did, he'd surely back down, James picked up the rod, hovering the bright red "P" above Ambre's wrist. Already a whimper came from her, just from feeling the heat radiate off of the metal.

Keeping his eyes open as not to mess up, James pushed down and in return, an agonizing scream ripped from Ambre's vocals. A long, tormented scream that had the power to possibly haunt one's dreams. He was counting in his head, waiting for Mercer to tell him to lift up.

Fifteen … Sixteen … Seventeen …

More tears came to those emerald optics of hers, and another scream soon followed by a foul curse.

Twenty-five … Twenty-six … Twenty-seven …

Still, nothing and James could pick up the faint scent of burning flesh.

Forty-one … Forty-two … Forty-three …

"There!"

Drawing back, James saw where the flesh was burnt and where the "P" was already vaguely visible. Throwing the rod back into the fire, James turned away from the table and took steps that got him away from Mercer, Beckett, and Ambre. He did it, and that was all that mattered. He had his life back …

That was all that mattered.

Hearing Ambre's silent sobs, he afforded one look back, seeing the girl being released by Mercer only to crumple to the floor, cradling her wrist.

"Well done. Couldn't have done it better myself." Moving towards the opposite side of the table where Ambre sat, Beckett looked down at her, getting his own self satisfaction out of seeing the girl's spirit being broken.

"With that little problem out of the way …" Looking towards the two lieutenants that finally recovered from Ambre's earlier body-boxing, the two caught the hint and hurried to pick up Ambre once more.

"Take her back to her cell."

Nodding, the lieutenants nodded and took their leave with Ambre with them.

"She didn't … do anything." The word's escaped James once he knew Ambre was gone.

Beckett clearly had no remorse for what had just happened. "Being born was her crime."

"And her mother?"

"Giving birth to Ambre and sleeping with Sparrow. We don't need more of them running around."

"But--"

"Mercer, show our Admiral to his housing quarters."

Sighing, James didn't want to risk it and backed down, following Mercer out of the office. Walking out, James had a feeling, a feeling that told him he'd see Ambre more in the next few days.

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:'D this might be the last update for a while. all i ever ask, reviews. :3  
and i do hope you enjoy this fic so far. 


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